Now that I am pregnant, I must rest and be calm. For Lucas, this means lying on the sofa in the living room while he moves around the kitchen showing off his cooking skills. It's the first time since I've known him that I've seen him do that. Usually, the cook is the one who takes care of all this, just like he did in Italy, although his mother occasionally cooked too.

"Do you really know how to cook?" I question, raising my voice so that he can hear me despite the noise coming from the pots and pans on the stove.

I love that the living room is close to the kitchen, as I see Lucas wearing those skintight jeans and a white t-shirt. Besides, that broad smile makes him look sexy when he sees me.

"I am Italian, remember?" he asks mischievously. "We love to eat and cook," he continues, and now I'm the one who smiles.

"I thought you were the typical rich boy who grew up among cooks and servants," I joke.

Lucas shakes his head and narrows his eyes as he smiles. "I think that's you, Bella. Don